we are not sorry, shamed or embarrassed to nominate this standout work of intelligent, mainstream pop as one of the best albums of the year. because it is. not least for spawning two top ten singles in a climate which is hardly made for fortysomething indie divas singing about oliver cromwell or mexican street gangs. his voice has rarely sounded so good; yes we would prefer a few less of the radio-twoisms (like the flute), yes it would be nice if his lyrics could regain the true sparkle of yore; but the combination of sensitivity and bile in the worldplay - and, most of all, the real vulnerablility of open allusions to his loneliness and extended bachelorhood, float skies above the pretenders to his throne.